World War Uke
Chapter One
It all started with Italy deciding he was sick of ridicule for not reading The Atmosphere. "It's apparently very popular, like The Prince or Harry Potter! I love to read so it seems silly I haven't read The Atmosphere yet!"
"I totally get ripped for that all the time!" America exclaimed. "'You don't read The Atmosphere, you don't even know what The Atmosphere is, blah blah blah fish and chips!' Well if SOMEONE would just LEND it to me maybe I could read it too!"
"Morons," Romano spat before leaving. Canada only thought it as he also left.
England and Germany merely shared a Look. It was akin to one often shared by America and Spain, Italy and Hungary, France and Greece - a Look that said "Our partners are jerks/crazy stern/disturbingly polite" and so on. This particular Look was fairly obviously "our partners are incredibly stupid."
"We should go find it!" Italy trilled. "It'll be like a treasure hunt!"
"Awesome! I ROCK at treasure hunts!" America stood up, striking a dramatic pose. "Seriously you should see me at Easter time! I always find all the eggs like a boss!"
"Too bad he can't find any socks that match," England muttered darkly to Germany, who snorted.
Italy clapped excitedly. "Brava, brava! Where do we start?"
"Barnes & Noble! Come, my trusty sidekick!"
"Veeeeee I'm a sidekick!"
With resigned sighs, England and Germany followed their wayward significant others.
The World Conference was in Germany. Despite the fact that said nation was RIGHT THERE, neither America nor Italy thought of asking him for directions or even if Barnes & Noble operated in the country*. Wryly bemused, Germany wasn't volunteering this information up either.
"I'm still not sure if allowing these two to communicate is a good thing or a bad thing," England mused, looking at the confident America and awed Italy in front of them.
"It's good that Italy can be around someone of his own intelligence level," Germany replied darkly.
England laughed. "I'm not entirely certain who that insulted more."
"That was the point."
"I bet The Atmosphere is a really really big book," Italy was trilling. "The kind with not a lot of pictures that make me want to take a siesta."
"Dude I totally feel you! Some books are really freakin' boring!"
"And if Germany likes it, it must be super boring!"
The two laughed. England and Germany did not.
"Ah ha! The Hero and his trusty sidekick have found the elusive bookstore!" America dramatically pointed to what looked to be a decrepit shack with a hastily-painted sign for "Barns and Noble" haphazardly tacked to the front. "Let the nerd times commence!"
"Veeee this isn't suspicious at all!"
"Wait a minute!" England began, but the two idiots went into the "store." "Bloody hell!"
"ITALY!" Germany roared in rage.
* It doesn't (at least according to Google).
So one thing led to another and the four nations found themselves captured by slave traders. "It's just like 'Taken' if Liam Neeson was the one kidnapped," America exclaimed. "Since he's the hero and I'm-"
"He's also from Northern Ireland," England interjected quickly. "Yes, that is part of the United Kingdom, and yes, that is what I represent."
America pouted.
Italy was crying. Germany found this ironic, considering any slaver who bought him would likely return him within a week.
"Anyone, none of this would have happened if YOU," America looked at Germany, "were awesome enough to have Barnes & Noble."
Germany's patience was wearing rather thin by now. "Nein, none of this would have happened if YOU remembered you're NOT IN THE UNITED STATES. And learn to ask for directions, dumme Schlampe!"
America hadn't had a clue what he said, but England hissed, "I beg your pardon! If you recall this was all ITALY'S idea in the first place because HE thinks the atmosphere is a BOOK!"
"So did America!"
Meanwhile, America had found a pin, which he pushed to Italy with his foot. The latter dried his tears and picked the lock. Neither noticed the imminent declaration of war.
"All done!"
"Awesome job little guy!" Freed from the chains, America easily kicked open the back of the truck. "Let's go!"
The four left the truck, which crashed into a tree from the force of America's blow. As the nation laughed arrogantly, the other three looked around.
"Scheiße. We're in Switzerland," Germany muttered darkly.
After running while begging for forgiveness, the four found themselves in France's house, safe for the time being. Shortly after being tended to, America and Italy went to raid first his kitchen and then his library, still searching for the elusive book. This was all well and good considering England and Germany were still not pleased with each other.
"It's good you're all in shape, considering Switzerland's aim is so excellent," Canada chirped happily as he bandaged England's arm.
Under other circumstances at least England and America would have been put-out to see Canada at France's house, but there were other things to be worried about at the moment. "Never mind the small-talk! Both of you! I demand to know who you consider to be a better boyfriend, America or Italy!"
France looked like a deer caught in headlights. Canada looked incredibly uncomfortable. "I can't really answer that," he admitted softly, "After all, if I say America, I'll never hear the end of it. If I say Italy, I'll get the world's biggest noogie."
"Besides, you're his brother so you're biased," Germany reminded him bitterly.
"And I also am uncomfortable, as both are my little brothers," France added. "Besides, we all know that Canada is better."
"There's only one way to settle this, then," Germany said imperiously, ignoring that last comment.*
"Indeed! Pistols at dawn!"
"No, not like that! With a competition! We will force them to compete for points throughout a series of obstacles, and whoever wins is the better boyfriend!"
Canada groaned. "That makes no sense. This is going to go poorly."
"Like a train-wreck. Which is why we have to go along," France told him. Canada had to admit he agreed.
There came a wail from across the house. "That stupid book isn't here either!" Italy cried.
* Because it was true, even if only because Canada knew what the atmosphere was.
Being the consummate host and also hoping to get the "battles" underway, France invited his four guests out to a dinner at the fanciest restaurant in Paris ("It's got nothing on the Ritz," England commented with no lack of bitterness) after buying them all nice clothes as well. Canada was a bit ashamed at his boyfriend's blatant provocation, but he also didn't stop him.
"I haven't had a good plate of pasta in so long I've almost forgotten what it tastes like," Italy cooed as he patiently waited for his dinner.
"You had it for breakfast," Germany reminded him before remembering the scenario. "And by the way, you're the best chef I've ever met. I will gladly go to my grave eating your pasta."
France sniggered. England was hasty to declare, "Well, America has people to cook for him, what with his vastly superior economy!"
"Oh, ha, that's a laugh!"
"What do you mean by that!"
"America's economy being described as anything other than 'about to crash, burn and die!'"
"Heeeey," America whined, "That wasn't very nice, dude. You wouldn't even HAVE an economy if not for me!"
"Ha! He's right!"
France covered his heart, shocked that England admitted America was right about anything. Canada realized that this was about to turn into yet another argument about war, so he quickly interjected, "So, who can eat more, Italy or America?"
And thus was born the first Challenge!
